Christmas's Deadline
by MidniteDancer
Summary: It's raining men!  No literally, this dude just fell from the sky! Well, actually it's an angel. And... he's beautiful. Where does this leave me? UsUk
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Really Gilbert, I just don't feel like drinking tonight," the blond said, pulling his fingers through his hair wearily.

The albino looked aghast, "Don't feel like drinking!" His accent was very heavily German, not that Alfred really ever noticed anymore. Right now, though, it was slowly turning his headache into a full blown migraine, "Since when does Alfred 'Fucking Awesome' Jones not feel like going out! Dude, Francis and Tonio are gonna be there too!"

"All the more reason," the blond sighed, "Look, I have a headache as it is. I think I'm just going to go home tonight."

Gilbert put his fists on his hips and glared at the younger man, "You're going to spend your FRIDAY NIGHT at HOME after the AWESOME me and your BEST FRIEND since, like, FOREVER just asked you to come hang at the new club downtown?" He shook his head in disappointment, "So unawesome."

"I'll be unawesome for a night," he turned to leave, "Besides, I'm sure you know how to have fun without me."

"Hell yeah I do! And I expect you to get better for next weekend! I'll not be friends with anyone unawesome." Alfred smiled at his friend's way of telling him to take it easy. He waved back.

He lived only about five blocks from the building. Outside he looked around and sighed. When he turned eighteen he left home and eagerly came to the city, hoping to study to become an archaeologist. He'd assumed it would be exciting, full of promises, parties, and people. He quickly learned that it was, but it was also crowded, loud, and cold. And not just cold as in weather (which it frequently was) but distant. You knew people but you didn't really KNOW anyone. About two weeks in, though, he was lucky enough to find that one of his old friends from school, Gilbert, a year older than him, lived around here too. That helped. Slightly. But especially recently he's found that he's slowly becoming more anti-social. It's been eight months, December fifteenth, Christmas coming up, cold as Hell in Norway, his job is draining and flat, and school was not going well.

He wrapped his iconic bomber jacket closer around him as he mentally prepared for the cold, lonely walk home. After just a few moments of walking Alfred began to regret not going with the Trio, headache or not. The first group he ran into were a group of college kids, laughing and acting like they were already pretty trashed early on into the night. They were definitely not going home anytime soon. And they probably wouldn't be going home alone either.

Now that he was thoroughly depressed he stared noticing all the _couples_ around him. When they walked by him they almost seem to sidle away, as if he had some kind of disease. But the worst was the block right before his apartment. There's a nondescript bar he sometimes stops at that was usually for people who wanted to be alone. If that wasn't sad enough, this particular night one gentleman stumbled OUT of the bar. He looked like a businessman in a suit that looks like he'd been sleeping in it for a while. It wasn't even eight yet and the man was drunk and heading home.

That is, he was until he stumbled on his own feet and fell. Automatically, Alfred went over to help him up, "Ya alright?"

"Yeah, yeah. 'm all righ'. Jus' take me round the corner here to the lil pub. I'll even buy ya a drink."

Alfred thought for a moment. He really didn't want to… He glanced at the intoxicated man and mentally sighed. He would be severely rude to not at least escort the incapacitated man to his destination.

The inside was dimly lit as Alfred led the man to a seat at the bar. After he had a seat he patted the one next to him, "Ha a drink. Not often I have comp'ny."

Alfred shook his head, "I have work I should do. Thank you though. You gonna catch a cab to get home?"

The man nodded wearily, "Yeah, no need tuh fret. 'ey!" He yelled just as Alfred was about to leave, "Don' work yerself alone, got me?" Alfred hesitated a moment before nodding.

'Don't work yourself alone'. The line tumbled through his head as he continued back to his apartment. Even after he'd gotten a shower and changed into boxers and a loose t-shirt it wouldn't leave him alone. Granted he's heard 'Don't work yourself to death', who hasn't? But for whatever reason this phrase struck a chord, and he couldn't figure out why.

Suddenly the apartment seemed smaller and stuffy. He would never be able to relax at this rate. He sighed and grabbed his bomber jacket before heading to the roof.

The roof was his place of solitude and peace. He loved how much closer he was to the sky, clear tonight with a crescent moon. If it weren't for all the lights he could have probably seen the billions of stars he could see when he was at home. As it was only the moon and a few of the brighter stars shone through. From here he could also hear the sounds of the city; cars, people, music from night clubs. It made him long for the quiet nights listening to the insects and the owls, even if they were of the screech variety that never failed to make him jump out of his skin. He could always laugh about it later. Now the only thing that has a similar effect were car alarms, and he could never manage to laugh about them.

Not wanting to see the street lights, he lay on the cement by the rail, looking up into the darkness. 'Don't work yourself alone'. The man was drunk he probably had no idea what he was talking about.

While he was thinking he vaguely noticed the sound of flapping reaching his ears. Bringing himself back to the present he focused on the sound and noticed that a voice seemed to go along with it. It was still too far to make out words but the voice was angry and slurring, probably drunk.

Flapping and a voice. Wait, what? Alfred's sky blue eyes snapped open from his relaxation and darted around as he searched the starry canopy.

Movement caught his eye. He focused on it and noticed that whatever _it_ was was obviously not able to fly straight. And… it seemed a tad larger than a bird so…

Suddenly the white object plummeted. It headed straight towards his rooftop. Acting almost purely on instinct, Alfred leapt to his feet and ran. His heart pounded; to him the object was falling much faster than normal. He found himself positioned under the object about two seconds before it hit him. He gave a dull "Oof!" as he himself hit the ground under the weight of the thing.

After finding his wind he found that he was covered in a sort of dead weight so that sitting up was difficult. When he had (with his one hand because the other was still holding the soft, warm thing) he gasped as he got a good look at the thing that fell.

It was an angel. He wasn't trying to be corny or anything, like calling a pretty girl and angel or whatever. This was an actual living, breathing angel. Wings, halo, and everything. He'd caught the angel stomach down so he got a good look at the wings. He got a sudden urge to reach out and stroke those wings. When he did ever so gently he pleasantly discovered that they were like soft down. Gingerly, he turned the body over so that it was sitting in his lap. The angel was a boy, a few years older than he. His skin was pale and blemish-less, although his face was flushed probably from the alcohol. His hair was slightly shaggy but almost as soft as his wings, with a silkier feel. The only oddity was the eyebrows that were rather thick; although they marred his face not whatsoever. Right now they were drawn down in slight irritation or frustration. Alfred felt his heart skip slightly as he realized what a perfect and a beautiful creature he was holding.

After studying his face his eyes flicked to the little circlet of gold that hovered over the angel's head. Unlike movies and cartoons, the circlet didn't seem to be a solid gold or even a substance. I just looked like a circle of light. Fascinated, he reached out to touch it. As his fingers drew near, it seemed to fade. When they were supposed to come into contact it faded completely. The angel let out a soft whimper, as if of slight pain. Fear pulsed through Alfred as he was terrified that he may have hurt him. He wrenched his hand away and watched as the halo retook its original position. The angel looked like it had when he began with the halo.

When he shivered in the December cold Alfred made the decision to bring the creature inside, at least until it was conscious. He lifted the creature and held him close as he made his way back to his room.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

How on earth could he have missed that? He was holding the guy or a good fifteen minutes and he failed to notice that he was wearing the shortest, skimpiest, most translucent dress he's ever seen outside a gentleman's club. It barely came to his mid-thigh!

Alfred's face heated up as he stared at those perfect legs. _Pervert. _His inner voice snapped him out of his fascination. He shook his head in a vain attempt to make his thoughts disperse. He grabbed a blanket and covered the slumbering angel.

Just as he was about to leave he paused a moment. Would leaving him alone be a good idea? Alfred knew that he sure as hell wouldn't like waking up in a stranger's bed. But… Alfred bit his lip. It looks like he's drunk so he could leave for a while.

He sighed. Not that there's anything he had to do at (he glanced at the clock) 11:48 at night. He grabbed the chair from his desk and brought it over to the bedside. He drifted to sleep watching the angel breathe.

~X~

Sunlight through the shades pricked his eyes. His neck and back were sore from sleeping upright and he had to untwine his arms and legs from how he's had them crossed all night. He stretched and heard a moan.

Where he placed the angel last night there as now a lump under the covers. He stood up and leaned over the figure, "Hey, dude, you awake?"

"Please don't yell. And turn off the bloody light, would you?"

_Ah, hangover_. Alfred smirked as he moved to shut the blinds. When the room was sufficiently dark enough he turned back to see the figure still huddled under the blanket, "Better?"

"Sure." The angel crawled from its place under the blanket and turned to look blearily at Alfred. Then his situation seemed to hit him like a brick and Alfred couldn't help but smile at the emotions of shock, embarrassment, slight fear, and confusion that crossed his face. As quickly as anyone with a hardcore hangover could, the angel scrambled out of the bed to the opposite side of the room, "Where the bloody hell am I? Who are you? What…?"

"You're in my apartment after I saved you from crashing to your death on my roof. Nothing happened. And my name," he struck a pose just for the hell of it, "Is Alfred F. Jones! Can I get you anything?"

Then angel rubbed his temples, "Yes, actually, you could make me a pot of tea."

Alfred faltered, "Uh, I don't have tea. I could make you coffee…"

The angel muttered, "Bullocks," before sighing, "Just boil the water then if you will."

"Uh… sure."

As he left for the kitchen he grabbed the angel's wrist gently to make him follow. Immediately he turned red and sputtered, "Oi! Wha-What the bloody he…" before being shown a couch to sit on.

"I only have a pot to boil it in. 's that alright?"

"Yeah, that's fine." As Alfred put the water on, the angel spoke from the couch, "You're taking my being an angel rather well."

Alfred chuckled, "Oddly enough. How else was I supposed to take it? I wasn't going to send you to a lab or whatever."

"Most people take me as a 'heavenly sign' or some nonsense like that."

_Good thing I didn't assume_. Alfred shrugged, "I was never the religious sort." He went to sit beside the angel.

He raised his thick eyebrows, "Then what do you take me as?"

Alfred shrugged again, "Paranormal phenomenon. Something outside the norm."

The angel looked slightly impressed and amused, "Yes, well, I suppose so." He fell silent and didn't seem intent on explaining the matter.

So Alfred pressed another one, "You're British." He said it with a grin.

He raised an eyebrow, "Very good. How did you figure that out?"

Alfred pretended to pout, "You're not being real nice to someone who saved your life."

The angel looked slightly embarrassed, "Erm… Quite right," he paused a moment, "I'm Arthur Kirkland, thanks for catching me. It was that last bit of rum that did me in."

"No problem. I'm a hero, I'm supposed to help people."

Arthur rubbed his temples again, "Of course you are."

Alfred grinned, then, "So, why'd you get yourself so wasted anyway? Are angel's even allowed to do that?"

Arthur twisted his mouth into a wry smirk, "I'm not a bloody seraph. I'm allowed to do what I want so long as it doesn't cause mass chaos."

"Seraph?"

Arthur waved his hand as if to brush it away, "A real, higher ranking angel with legitimate duties and whatnot."

"You're not a real angel?"

"Of course I'm a bloody real angel! What else would I be, a mutant dove!" He stopped Alfred before he could speak, "Don't answer that, git. Stop interrupting me." He took a couple deep breaths before he started while Alfred fidgeted eagerly. "Alright, there are several different types of angels. Some are messengers between that world and this, some are warriors, guardians, among several others. I'm of a much lower class, a class mostly created out of pity." Arthur sighed and leaned back into the couch cushions while crossing his legs, "While we were people we… lacked something, and therefore our lives were distorted and incomplete. So we're given ten years to find what we lacked and make up for it, and we continue our lives. Should we not find whatever _it_ is by midnight on the final day of our tenth year we return to…" he waved his hand in an upward motion, meaning a world above this one, "To be judged on where then we should… end up." Arthur flushed slightly and looked away, "I'm running out of time."

Alfred sat silently for a minute, then he got up to pour the boiling water from the pan to a mug which he brought to Arthur before taking his seat again. "What is it? Do you know what you're looking for?"

Arthur grasped the mug, and blushed again, "There was only one thing my life lacked but I never gave it much thought. I've never been in love," he turned to look Alfred square in the eye, daring him to say anything.

Alfred stopped to ponder a moment. For whatever reason, he was inclined to believe what Arthur told him. If he really was sent back to earth to look for love, how in the world was he supposed to make that happen? Alfred, as heroic and romantic as he seemed, found it difficult to believe much in "love" these days. It's not that Arthur wouldn't attract attention (quite the contrary, Alfred felt no shame in admitting the angel with a British accent was very good looking), but in his current state it probably wouldn't be the right form of attention. He looked (was) like an angel, for Christ's sake! Probably was not going to be seducing anyone with the wings and halo.

"May I ask what you are staring at?" Arthur's voice snapped him from his thoughts as he realized he was staring rather intently at the smirking angel.

"Ah! I was just wondering how you were supposed to fall in love looking like…" he gestured to indicate the angelic form. Arthur's smirk widened as he took a sip from the cup, "And why are you drinking hot wat-HOLY FU…!"

Without even registering the change, it happened so fast, Arthur's dress...er angelic garb turned into a rather respectable casual-formal outfit that seemed to suit the Brit perfectly. Now wearing slacks and a white shirt completely with forest green sweater vest, sipping the steaming liquid in the cup, Alfred suddenly felt very unrefined. "And it's tea, you git, You should try it sometime," he made a face at the mug, "Though, I assure you, the real stuff tastes ten times better than whatever this is I can create." He sipped again, letting his green emerald gaze slide over the figure on the opposite side of the couch, "Do close your mouth, I believe you're attracting flies."

Finally realizing he was gaping at Arthur, he shut his mouth and attempted to form words, "Wha… How… You turned that into tea?"

Arthur snorted, "Is that the only thing you can think to say?"

"I wish I could change like that in the morning. It could shave ten minutes off my morning routine."

Arthur shook his head sadly, though still fairly amused, "You really are a moron. The only thing I really can't change is," he scowled and gestured to the top of his head.

Alfred had just noticed it too. The halo, it seems, only faded, not vanished completely there was till a slight slow encircling his head. Eventually managing to speak again, Alfred managed to ask, "Is this part of your," he made an inclusive gesture, "Being an angel thing? So are there many angle just walking around acting like people?"

"No. Well, sort of. The wings are easy to fade. But others need to purchase new clothing."

"But you…"

"Yes, I've always been gifted," he frowned at Alfred's disbelieving face, "Do you really not believe me? I just changed my whole attire before your face and am now drinking tea. You can't be that thick."

"It's just… a little unbelievable really," he glanced at Arthur's glare and quickly continued, "But I'm gonna believe you. It's probably the only thing keeping me slightly sane."

The angel gave an exasperated sigh, "Well, that's better than nothing I suppose. If you're so inclined, I'm actually in need of your assistance."

"Uh, sure, whatcha need?"

Arthur locked his fiery emerald eyes with Alfred's sky blue, "Help me fall in love."

* * *

><p>Heeeyyyy new chapter! Please forgive my a)inaccuracies b)spellinggrammer mistakes.  
>Drop a review!<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Alfred could only stare back at the angel, who merely sipped on his magically conjured tea. Finally he managed to stutter, "Wh-What?" like the brilliant wordsmith he was.

Arthur reiterated, "I need your help to find someone I can love. Because, honestly, I haven't the foggiest where to begin."

"Ah," Alfred felt himself flush, although he wasn't sure hat he thought Arthur was saying the first time that caused him to blush, "Yes, well, the first thing would probably be to get you out to see lots of people."

Arthur raised his bushy eyebrow and said sarcastically, "Oh really? And where exactly would that be?"

"To be honest, I don't know," Alfred answered, completely missing the sarcasm, "I'm not all that familiar with New York's hot-spots yet," he thought for a moment, "But, I don't have a friend who I would bet money on knows some good places to go."

"Just to be clear, we are talking about love and not just picking up girls or some nonsense. And I don't want to be dragged around to dozens of bloody 'dance clubs'."

"Where would you plan on meeting girls then?"

"I dunno. Tea shops, bookstores maybe…"

Alfred snorted, "I've never even seen a tea shop and no one reads books anymore."

Arthur reddened indignantly, "J-Just because you are too bloody…!"

He was cut off by Alfred standing up and patting his shoulder once, "Look, don't worry. Leave it to his hero and you'll be head over heels by Christmas."

"Eve."

"Hm?"

"My deadline is Christmas Eve."

Alfred paused, slightly taken aback, before regaining his enthusiasm, "That too! Either way, man, I've got you covered." He took Arthur's now empty mug and took it to the kitchen, "And you're gonna crash here until you move in with your new girl, 'kay?"

From the couch Alfred heard a mumbled, "Git," and he couldn't help but smile.

~X~

"I'm now positive I hate you." Arthur, Alfred, and Gilbert's trio (the self-proclaimed "Bad Friends Trio") were at the new club downtown Gilbert asked Alfred to come to the previous night. After making the call to his friend and explaining the predicament (he knew a guy that needed to get laid and he needed his help) Gilbert got the Trio together and readily agreed.

It was like trying to pull teeth to get Arthur out of the house though. "I told you, I'm not going to some bloody club! I'm a grown man, this…"

"Artie, you said you needed my help!"

"Do NOT call me that!"

Eventually, though, Alfred managed to convince Arthur to change his clothes and come along. The Brit was now in simple jeans and a white button down shirt, with the first button undone. In the dance club now, however, Alfred spotted a slight problem. In the dark, the faint gold glow around Arthur's head was slightly more noticeable. Of course, he didn't mention this to his friend, but made sure to keep them in the slightly more lit areas of the building.

They were now sitting at one of the tables waiting for the Trio to arrive, while Arthur looked like he was trying to fend off a headache due to the music. Alfred didn't mind it. "Don't Trust Me" wasn't his favourite song, but it was fine for the club. Suddenly, "ALFRED!" Only one person could make himself heard in such a loud club. Alfred swiveled in his seat to see the Trio make their way over to their table. Behind him Alfred heard Arthur groan and he grinned.

"Gilbert! Glad you guys could make it," he turned to Arthur when they arrived at the table, "Arthur these are the guys I enlisted to help us. The obnoxious one is Gilbert," Gilbert waved enthusiastically as he and his friends took their seats, Francis sat right beside Arthur and was slowly closing in on his personal space, "The creeper beside you is Francis."

Francis flipped his hair and whipped a rose out from somewhere, "_C'est très agréable de vous rencontrer, mon cher_."

Arthur scowled, "Bloody frog. Get away from me."

Francis' blue eyes widened, "Why, he's English!"

Alfred ignored the two and finished the introductions, "And the pedo over here is Antonio," Antonio smiled good-naturedly and waved, "And you three, this is Arthur." Arthur nodded, still glancing at the slowly encroaching Frenchman.

"So, Alfie," Gilbert purred, leaning into the blond, "Where'd you find the guy?"

"Well, Gillie," Alfred smiled but his mind was racing, he wasn't very good at making up stories on the spot.

"I was drunk and Alfred ran into me on his way home," Arthur explained, still trying to inch away from Francis, "I don't remember anything but evidently I latched onto him and followed the poor lad home, spewing out all of my problems," he sighed convincingly, "Then I passed out."

Alfred blinked a couple times then realized he should agree with the story and nodded. "Good thing you brought him to us," Gilbert fake-whispered to Alfred, "This guy sounds like a mess."

"_Mon cher_, if it is love you need help with, then look no further!" Francis struck a pose with his rose, causing a few nearby girls to squeal and sigh, "When it comes to _l'amour_ the French know all."

Arthur looked at him, "Right," he turned back to talk to everyone, "Where do I start?"

"_Mi amigo_, finding love isn't a recipe, there's no directions. It's something that just happens," Antonio smiled while Arthur tried to hide his disappointment, making Alfred grin slightly.

"Wait," Gilbert cut in, "I thought we were just trying to get the guy laid."

"Oh, well, that's another thing entirely," Antonio leaned back in his chair and grinned, "Girls in America find the English accent very attractive, you should have a very easy time of this."

"What?" Arthur was confused, "No, I'm trying to…." he broke off, his face reddening slightly, before bursting out, "I don't know what the bloody hell you guys are talking about and if you're not going to help me I'm just going to leave. This whole thing is a bloody waste of time."

Gilbert, who loves to irritate people, smirked, "Don't get your panties in a bunch. We're trying to figure out what it is exactly you want."

"Just help him find a girl," Alfred tried to clarify.

"Ah, but Alfred, love doesn't just come with women." Francis leaned suggestively into Arthur who promptly pushed him out of his seat. The other three burst out laughing while Arthur cursed under his breath, his face red again.

Alfred didn't laugh as hard as the other two. He's been watching Francis' behaviour and, frankly, he didn't like it. Not to be misunderstood, Francis is a really good guy. It's just… he has a tendency to lead people on.

When the laughter died down Alfred noticed something peculiar about Arthur, "Dude, that's not English. What are you saying?"

Arthur stopped mumbling and looked as if he were caught doing something he wasn't supposed to do, "Er… well… nothing. It's nothing."

"Well now you _have_ to tell us," Gilbert leaned in closer.

Before Arthur got a chance to retort Antonio spoke up, "_Amigo_, Arthur, the brunette two tables down has been watching you for a while now. Perhaps you should ask her to dance, _no_?"

They all automatically looked back to the table full of girls who instantly started to giggle at their looks. "Looks to be about one for each of us," Gilbert observed with a grin, "You guys in?" They snickered and nodded while Arthur decided to look rather indignant.

Francis looked pointedly at his Spanish friend, "Wouldn't your Lovi be a little hurt?"

Antonio smiled again, "I'm just gonna dance. What's wrong with being nice to a girl?"

"Lovi?" Alfred scanned that name back through his memory, "You mean that guy back from our high school years?" he looked at Gilbert.

The albino nodded, "Yeah, the Italian twins. _Mein bruder_ has been dating the younger one for a while now and when Antonio saw Lovi he was smitten," Gilbert shook his head sadly, "Now he's wrapped around the little idiot's finger and there's no way to pry him off."

"Gilbert, you wound me," Antonio's grin turned slightly wicked, "If you knew what he could do you would not be feeling so sorry for me."

The table fell silent before the other two members of the Trio started to try and pry dirty secrets out of their friend. After five minutes of no such luck they decided to try their luck on the girls.

~X~

Towards the end of the night, though, things turned out differently. Alfred, who intended to try and stay away from people tonight, found himself stuck with a bleach blond named Vicky with no way to tell her politely that he was not interested. Gilbert was drinking beer at the bar with some new guys and from the sound of them they were from the Nordic countries. Francis and Arthur were alone at a table seemingly just talking. After a few glasses (bottle at least) of rum Arthur really started to warm up to Francis. For some reason it really pissed Alfred off.

"And then mom and dad decided they _didn't_ want to give me the car after all! Can you believe the stupid bitches! They always liked my brother better and…" Alfred carefully tuned out the blond as he watched the other two. Francis laid his hand on Arthur's arm and was whispering something in his ear. Even in the dark Alfred could see Arthur's face flush darker and he nodded.

He, being the hero he was, wasn't going to let Arthur sleep with… wait, he was jumping to conclusions. But he wasn't going to let him leave with Francis, not while he was drunk anyway. Bad things would happen.

When Francis stood up he was all set to jump up as well and grab Arthur but Francis just leaned over and pecked Arthur on the lips.

Alfred froze. Why did he suddenly feel like punching Francis' pretty face into a pulp? "Hey, are you even listening to me?" The girl's voice sounded shrill in the night club and Alfred really just felt like leaving.

"No, I need to go now." He left the girl to gap at his departure as he made his way over to the still flustered Brit. He put on a smile as he sat down beside him, "Hey, so what's going on? You ready to leave?"

Arthur nodded slowly before looking up at Alfred, "He called me lovely. He's taking me on a date tomorrow." Arthur then promptly passed out.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Hey, Artie, I'm home!" Alfred yelled into the dark apartment. He frowned when he received no reply. After removing his shoes and jacket he padded into the kitchen to find a note on the table.

_Francis took me out to dinner. I'll be back later._

_Arthur_

Alfred scowled. This was the third time in six days Arthur has gone out with, in his words, the frog. The first time Alfred had blamed it on the alcohol. He returned acting all nonchalant, as if it was a business dinner or something. The second time, though, he seemed rather excited to go, really pissing Alfred off. And now.

He crumpled the note and tossed it before moving to pour himself some whisky. As he sipped it he glanced at the calendar, and nearly spat it out. It was the 22nd. Two days before Christmas Eve. Arthur was really coming down to the wire.

Alfred looked into the amber beverage. Did he think the French bastard was his true love?

He snorted. That was the corniest thing he's ever thought, and it didn't sit well with him. So what if Arthur thought the playboy really cared about him? He'll be gone by Christmas anyway.

Alfred sat the glass on the counter and had to lean on it as he caught his breath. By Christmas he'll never see him again. He hardly knew the guy, why did he feel as if something was being wrenched out of him?

Did he…? No, he's always been straight. He's gone out with girls… he's never done anything with them, but he's gone out with them (he would NEVER in a million years tell Gilbert he was still a virgin; he wouldn't hear the end of it).

He groaned. Damn it, now he was starting to question himself! If he had someone to compare himself to he could analyze the….

Quickly he whipped out his cell phone. Granted it wasn't saying much, but Antonio seemed to be the most sensible one of the Trio. And he fell in love with Lovi. Alfred felt like banging his head against the counter top, he was going to ask someone for relationship advice. But leaving it go just wasn't working any more.

"_Hola, habla Antonio__**.**__"_

"Hey, uh, Toni, what's up man?"

"Alfred! Nothing, just making some churros," he paused, "Do you need help? You sound nervous or something."

Alfred gave an anxious laugh, "Yeah, um, actually I need to ask you something dude," he thought a moment, "No one's going to hear about this, right?"

"Sure thing, _amigo_. What do you need?"

He took a deep breath, "How did you know you… had feelings for Lovino?"

There was quiet on the other end of the line but Alfred could have sworn that Antonio was grinning, "Why do you ask this, Alfred?"

"No reason, just answer the question."

The Spaniard chuckled, "Realizing you love someone is individual to each person. As for me, I just really wanted to hug cute little Lovi all the time. It could be something as simple as not wanting to let him go."

"I, uh, who said it was a him?"

Antonio laughed, "Forgive me _amigo_. Is that it?"

"I, uh, yeah, yeah that's it. See you Toni."

"_Adios mi amigo,y buena suerte._"

Alfred pressed the red button and downed the rest of the drink, thankful for the burn as it slid down his throat. Then he did press his forehead to the counter top.

Should he be honest with himself? Probably, unless he wanted to go into therapy. Well then, there was no way around it, was there?

Alfred had fallen in love with the angel.

~X~

He must have drifted off to sleep at the table because he found himself being woken by the sound of a door opening and closing. Sitting up straight, he found himself looking at Arthur. The Brit scowled when he noticed the other waiting at the table, "You don't have to wait up for me you know."

Alfred glanced at the clock. It was 11:28. He shrugged, "I wanted to. How was your date?"

All the lights were out so he wasn't sure if Arthur flushed or not. Perhaps it was just the slight glow from the halo. "It… It was really nice."

Alfred was surprised. He had assumed that Arthur would have denied the 'date' and said they just spent some time together, "I thought you hated the guy."

"Why would I hate him? Sure he's obnoxious, but he's pleasant enough company."

"Oh, so he didn't hit on the waitress or anyone else who happened to pass by?" Arthur stuttered indignantly, "You forget, I have known him a little longer than you." Alfred could feel the little green monster in him start turning him into a jerk, but he ignored it.

"No, in fact, he didn't."

Alfred paused, "You're lying."

"I have no reason to lie. And, while you may have known him longer, I do believe I know him better so if you would please," he turned to leave but Alfred jumped from his seat and grabbed Arthur's arm. "Oi! Release me!"

"Francis has always been a playboy. Just because you showed up doesn't mean he's going to change instantaneously."

"Just like you I would assume," Arthur's voice dripped resentment, "And how would you know? I'm getting the feeling you don't like Francis very much. Now let me go!"

"I'm telling you what I know because you seem too lovesick to see it yourself," Arthur's retort was drowned out by Alfred's growing volume, "Francis is just trying to get into your pants, and if you think otherwise you're a damn idiot. I thought you would have had more sense than this, but I guess I was wrong. Perhaps you're just getting desperate because your _deadline's_ coming up. In two days. If you hadn't had focused all your time on this hopeless cause you may have had a chance, but now I think you're screwed."

The two went quiet. The silence was shattered by the sound of Arthur's palm making contact with Alfred's cheek with enough force to cause the taller man to stumble. Arthur stood up straight and balled his fists to try and keep from shaking, "You don't think I know about that? That deadline has been hanging over my head for ten years. And for nearly all of those ten years I have failed and been absolutely miserable." Alfred looked at Arthur through the dark. The angel had stopped trying to hide the halo and wings and was glowing faintly. Making the tears on his cheeks stand out. Alfred jumped when he yelled, "I do NOT need you to come along and tell me my case is hopeless because I fucking know that already! I know Francis wasn't going to love me but give me a fucking break if I just want to have a little fun before I leave!" he stormed to the door, and, before turning the knob, spoke almost in a whisper, "And if you thought I had a chance, why the hell didn't you help me." He left with the slam of the door.

* * *

><p>So close to being done! Only one more chapter...<br>Fail jealously/love is fail.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Alfred didn't sleep at all that night. After Arthur left he busied himself by finishing his last bottle of whisky and bruising his knuckles on the wall. He had sat on the sofa for a time gripping his hair and telling himself what a pitiful idiot he was. When his phone rang three times he never answered it. He didn't leave the apartment, he just wandered around. It was almost 10 pm now. He'd wasted the day feeling sorry and berating himself. Now he just sat, almost numb, as he relived the fight again.

_I didn't mean that. I didn't mean any of that_. Tears started to trickle down his cheeks. _I was jealous. God, I didn't even know it was possible to get so jealous. Why the fuck didn't I just man up and out and tell him I loved him. He thought his case was hopeless. Did he even notice me? Even if we hadn't had that fight, would it have even mattered? Damn it! I'm such a pitiful piece of shit! Ugh, I need a drink._

He stood up and rediscovered that his last bottle of alcohol was empty. He didn't curse, but merely stared at the bottle. He set it down gently then made his way over to grab his jacket before heading out the door.

~X~

The inside of the bar was dark and the muted music from an old jukebox crawled out from the far corner. Alfred took the nearest seat at the bar and discovered himself beside that guy he'd helped out a couple days ago. Had it been just a few days ago? He ordered a whisky from the good-natured bartender but didn't drink it immediately, just twirled the shot in his hand. There were only five other guys in the place and they were playing cards in the corner. "Ya listened tuh tha' advice I gave ya the other day?"

Alfred stared at the man beside him, who had just spoken, surprised that he remembered him, "I've… been thinking about it, yeah," he stared at the amber liquid, "I'm still not entirely sure what it means."

"Used tuh never drink alone, ya know? Always had a bunch a buddies along. Then I got promoted," he took another sip of his brandy, "Came here tuh New Y'rk. Hated it. Still do. But I always put work a'for my social life. 's wha my partents wanted," he snorted, "Fat lot a good it did tuh make 'em proud. Couldn' even go tuh my dad's fun'ral," he finished his drink and fell silent.

Alfred finished his own shot and sat quiet for a while, feeling the man had more to say. "Wouldn' a been so bad if I had sumthin tuh work fer, ya know?" He pondered a moment before turning to look square at Alfred. His eyes were blood shot and a very calm grey. It seems he would have made a very likable man if he didn't seem like life just kicked the shit out of him. "Bu' workin' isn' the only way to be alone," he clumsily poked Alfred's shoulder, "I know how you younguns think. Yuh got yuh whole life ahead a you. Who ever ya with 's just another passin' trend," he scoffed, "That or yer just too bull headed to know when to apol'gise." Alfred stilled. "I've seen plen'y a young men the throw the bes' thing in their life away cuz they're too bull headed to have a bit a humility," he paused and looked at Alfred again, "Most of 'em end up in places like this. Now, I dunno what you did but there's prob'ly a way tuh fix it if ya think 'bout it. 'n sumtimes the bes' thing ya can do is 'pologise." Alfred sat only a moment longer before dropping some money on the counter and bolting off, leaving the smiling man at the counter who ordered his third brandy.

~X~

_Damn! Why does everyone decide to be outside now!_ Alfred tried to run down the sidewalk but found himself stopped by a wall of pedestrians. Now he found himself practically shoving by people to keep moving forward. Suddenly something grabbed his collar and yanked him back so that he was under a window of a nearby restaurant.

He looked up angrily, ready to take a swing at whatever it was, until he was met with the unusually subdued face of Francis. "What the hell?"

"You are going to find Arthur now, _non?_" Alfred nodded slowly, "He came to me yesterday, crying, although I'm sure he'd never admit it." Alfred felt his heart plummet. Francis continued to speak, "Now, I'm not trying to intrude and tell you to do anything, but you are one _stupide petit garçon_," he smirked, "I can tell that you really like him, it gave me a bit of pleasure knowing I could irk you so by being close to Arthur. I like Arthur, but he has no interest in me. While on our dates, if he wasn't making small talk, we were talking about you."

Flying from the abyss in his stomach, Alfred's heart shot to his throat and he couldn't find himself able to speak. "From what I gathered from him he has to leave tonight. Stop being stupid and apologise, _oui_?" Francis leaned in close, "I gave him my number. If I should find out things went… unsatisfactory, you and I are going to be having a nice long chat," he straightened out and smiled, "Off you go then."

Alfred mumbled a truly grateful "Thank you" before shooting off to his apartment. He knew where Arthur was and only hoped he would make it in time.

~X~

The cold December air hit his face like a drunken brawler. On top of the roof the wind had picked up, making it cooler than it was on the streets. The sky was dark and slightly overcast while the sounds of laughter and singing just barely reached over the building.

Alfred processed none of this. He'd flung open the door and stepped out into the December night with one thing in mind, Arthur. This was where he'd first met him, this was where the stubborn angel would leave.

Even though he was sure of his theory he still thanked any and all gods above that the white clad figure was standing there on the rooftop.

He stopped moving when he saw him. Arthur had changed back into his angelic form and was looking out over the railing at the city. He'd tensed slightly when the door opened but his wings were hanging in an air of defeat, "Arthur."

The angel didn't acknowledge his presence so Alfred tried again, louder, "Arthur, please look at me." He took a couple of soft steps forward.

Straightening his shoulders, Arthur slowly turned to look at the American. He wasn't crying, but his eyes were read and there were definite tear streaks on his flawless cheeks, "What the bloody hell do you want?"

"I'm sorry."

At first, shock registered on Arthur's face, but that quickly turned to a cynical scowl of disbelief, "Like hell you are. Leave me alone," he turned back to look outward.

"I am, though," he inched his way forward, "I had no right to say any of that. You should be with whoever you choose. It's just I was…" he paused and felt his face heat up, "I was jealous."

Arthur turned slightly, "What?"

"I was jealous. I didn't want you to be with Francis. I never thought you're case was hopeless. I was just being an idiot. A stupid fucking idiot and I've hurt you because of that," he was within arms reach of but he held himself back, "I'm sorry."

"You were… jealous?" Arthur spoke in a whisper, if Alfred hadn't had gotten closer he wouldn't have heard.

"Of Francis, yes. I wanted to be the one to help you. I should have told you sooner, but I only just realized it yesterday. I love you."

Arthur turned around to fully face Alfred, his green eyes wide, "What?"

"I love you. I just know I do. I want to learn everything about you," he moved a small step closer, "Where you're from, what you like, your hobbies, everything. If you'd let me."

Arthur wavered a moment, "You bloody idiot!" he fell into Alfred's arms, "Don't ever do something like that again! I'll bloody hex you if it happens again!" Alfred held him close as if afraid he was still going to disappear. The angel drew out slightly to look into Alfred's beautiful blue eyes, "It's about time you realized it. I've loved you too," before leaning in to kiss him.

Alfred was aware of nothing other than the man he was holding. His soft warm lips and the feel of his body pressed flush against his own, the golden hair his hand was twined in and the dance of their tongues. Vaguely, he felt the gradual disappearance of the wings. As they drew apart, Arthur gave him a small smile before fainting. Alfred caught his slender body and picked him up as he chuckled, and brought him back to his apartment just as the first snowflakes fell.

~x~X~x~

Epilogue

"I brought the booze!" The German voice shouted over the din of the packed apartment.

Arthur scowled at Alfred who began to laugh, "Did you have to invite him?"

"Hell yeah! He's my best friend!"

Arthur turned to Alfred's quiet half-twin beside him, "How on earth did you put up with this growing up?"

Mattie chuckled, "You get used to it. It always seems really quiet when he's not around."

"You make that sound like a bad thing," Arthur sipped his tea and surveyed the room.

They'd gathered nearly everyone for the New Year's Eve celebration and now Arthur was starting to doubt the sanity of the idea. Of course the Bad Friends Trio were there, Antonio had also brought along his boyfriend Lovino. The Italian also had a twin, Feliciano, who was still in high school and was going out with Gilbert's stern but likable younger brother, Ludwig. There were some other friends from Alfred's high school, an old Japanese man, Kiku Honda, who, for whatever reason, was taking pictures of the couples along with a squealing brunette. There was a Chinese man who's name was something like Yao, beside a hulking figure of a Russian who, Arthur was sure, Alfred didn't like. In the corner there was a Grecian man sleeping with about a dozen cats. There were five guys floating around, all of whose names Arthur couldn't remember, including a scary looking Scandinavian. And he was sure he saw someone smoking a pipe head into the other room.

Alfred, though, seemed ecstatic. He floated around and spoke to everyone, introducing people to Arthur, and laughed loudly with old friends. Arthur smiled to himself, he liked seeing Alfred enjoy himself like this. "Arthurrr!" the German voice from earlier was louder and Gilbert sidled up to him and Mattie, "What's up? Man, I haven't seen you since before Christmas!" He did a double take at Matthew and paused, "Whoa, so you're Alfred's little bro?"

The Canadian, slightly shocked from the attention, nodded, "Yeah, I'm Matthew."

Gilbert grabbed his hand and shook it vigorously, "Gilbert the Awesome, at your service!" As Gilbert started clinging to Matthew, Arthur took the chance to find Alfred.

He was watching the party with a look of happiness and triumph in his eyes, in the corner of the room. Arthur smacked him on the back of the head, "Ow! What was that for?"

"You were congratulating yourself on how awesome this party is, weren't you?"

Alfred's blue eyes went wide, "Dude, it's like you can read minds!"

Arthur sighed, "Only yours I'm afraid. Don't ask me how that happened."

Suddenly Alfred linked an arm around his waist and pulled him close, "You're really too cute, you know that Artie?"

The Englishman's face went bright red, "And you're a git, now release me!"

"In a minute. Listen."

The rooms started to chant, "_Ten, nine, eight, seven,_"

"Alfred F. Jones, don't you even…"

"_Six, five_"

"I love you Arthur."

"_Four, three"_

Arthur blinked a couple times, "Git." He linked his arms around Alfred's neck.

"_Two_"

They kissed each other in promise of the next year, and the years to come.

~x~X~x~

**End**.  
>Heck yeah! Finished my first chapter fic! *America's hero pose*<br>R&R, I'd like to see what yalls think!


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